


On Angels' Wings

by eightbitbat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Season/Series 08, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-11 13:53:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eightbitbat/pseuds/eightbitbat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is hurt, Sam is hurt, and Dean trusts his instincts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Torn

**Author's Note:**

> Solitude sails  
> In a wave of forgiveness  
> On angels' wings

Dean fucking hated witches.

If it wasn’t for stupid witches, he wouldn’t be standing in the pouring rain in a dark filthy back alley with Sammy and Cas.  They had split up to try to pin her down, and now they were slowly backing her into a corner.

She unexpectedly stopped moving backwards, and as the boys moved closer she suddenly threw up her hands and gave a shout in an unknown language.  A bolt of lightning struck at her feet and all three were blown back by the force.

 

* * *

 

Dean didn’t think he’d been out long; he felt just as rain-sodden as he had before the witch had worked her mojo, so it was hard to tell.  He sat up, groggy.  The witch was gone, of course, and where she had been standing was a perfect circle of scorched earth where the lightning hit.  He looked around and then gave a shout as he took in the crumpled forms of Cas and Sammy.  He ran over and crouched next to Cas, shaking him roughly.  The angel blinked a few times and muttered something Dean couldn’t hear.  “Cas man, are you okay?”  Cas coughed a few times and sat up, nodding.  Dean moved his way over to Sam, who was in worse shape, bleeding and unconscious. 

When the witch had flung them back, they’d all hit the alleyway’s walls, but Sam had been thrown up against a Dumpster.  Dean carefully felt along Sam’s spine, checking for injuries.  Nothing felt broken, but dark bruises had already formed on his back, and the head wound was gushing.  Dean hauled him up with a grunt and started towards the Impala, shouting for Cas to follow.

This was one of those times where Dean knew they’d have to go to the hospital.  He delayed for a while, driving them around the small town, but Sam still hadn’t woken up, and Cas didn’t look to be up to mojo-ing anyone.  Some things were just beyond a hunter’s medical skills, and the vivid bruises made Dean worry that there could be internal bleeding.   When they got to the hospital Cas still looked wiped, so Dean left him in the car while he half-dragged Sammy to the ER.  Thankfully it was a small town, and Sam was pretty bad off, so they got in right away.

Several hours later, Dean made his way back to the Impala.  Castiel was asleep in the back seat, so he got in quietly and drove them back to the motel with the radio off.  Once they arrived, he got out, but Cas didn’t budge.  Concerned, Dean got out and opened the car’s back door.  “Cas?  You okay?” Castiel didn’t reply, and when Dean put his hand on the back of Cas’ neck, his skin felt cold and clammy.  Taking a closer look, Dean saw that Castiel’s trench coat wasn’t just wet with rainwater, but dark with blood.  “Fuck.  Not good!”  Dean pulled Cas out of the car and half-carried him to the motel room.  Once inside, he dropped the angel onto his bed and ran back to the Impala to get the med kit from the trunk.

He worked the rain- and blood-soaked trench coat off the unconscious man, trying to find where he was bleeding out.  After he wrestled the suit coat off, he could see the dark blood spreading from Cas’ left side.  He removed Cas’ tie and unbuttoned his shirt, peeling it back.  The white undershirt he just sliced through, carefully, not knowing what he would find underneath. 

It wasn’t good.  The angel’s pale skin was streaked with blood, which was still slowly seeping from the jagged wound in his side.  Dean inhaled sharply as he exposed more of the wound, “Cas, you idiot, why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”  He got up and grabbed the room’s plastic ice bucket and filled it with hot water.  He returned to Cas’ side with the water and all the room’s clean towels and washcloths.  He slowly and carefully started to clean the blood off his friend’s skin, which was still cold as ice.  Cas didn’t as much as twitch.

Dean rolled the angel onto his side to get a better look at the wound.   It was long and thin, but didn’t look deep.  As big as it was, there hadn’t been a cut or tear in Cas’ clothing.  “Fucking witches, man.”  Dean wondered if he should stitch it closed.  He’d done it to Sammy plenty of times, but had never had to operate on Cas before.  The angel usually didn’t need them to patch him up, but if he was going to heal himself, he would have done it by now.  He wiped away more fresh blood took a closer look at the cut.  It was longer than he’d originally thought; it started up under Cas’ arm and continued all the way down his side, disappearing under the waist of his trousers.  Dean would need to take them off.  He didn’t know why the thought of removing Cas’ pants suddenly gave him pause.  It wasn’t as if he hadn’t done the same to an unconscious Sam in the past.  Hell, it wasn’t even as if he hadn’t seen Cas naked before.  On his car.  With bees.  Still, for some reason he now felt awkward. 

Cas needed help, though, and that was what mattered.  He eased Cas back onto his back and carefully undid his belt buckle and pants.  He kept pausing, as if he was afraid he would get caught.  Dean stopped and shook his head, laughing at himself a bit.  It’s not like he was doing anything pervy here, dammit. Cas was hurt, he was helping.  Dean took a deep breath, buried whatever it was that was making him feel weird, and got to work.  He stripped Cas’ pants and shoes off, tossing them onto the growing pile of bloody clothes and towels on the floor, though he left on the plain white boxers underneath.

He quickly stitched the cut and sterilized it with a generous splash of whiskey.  All of the room’s towels were now stained red with the angel’s blood.  During the process, Cas didn’t twitch a muscle.  His skin was still cold, too, though he was breathing.  Dean pulled a blanket over him, and then grabbed the laptop and the rest of the whiskey.  He sat on the bed next to Cas, propping himself against the headboard and stretching his legs out.  Dean wanted to be close enough to see if there was any change in Cas’ condition.  He would keep watch.


	2. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is hurt, Sam is hurt, and Dean trusts his instincts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solitude sails  
> In a wave of forgiveness  
> On angels' wings

The blaring of his cell phone woke Dean.  He answered it without opening his eyes.  “Mmm?”

Cheery music played and a pre-recorded message started playing about a cruise line.  Dean thumbed the phone off and chucked it across the room.  “Fucking telemarketers.”  He blinked his eyes a few times and tried to get his bearings.  He was in the motel bed, and he could see bright daylight seeping in from around the room’s curtains.  He looked to his left and started.  He must have fallen asleep while watching over Cas.  The angel was still passed out next to him, not looking like he had moved at all.  Dean flopped himself over on his side and reached an arm over to Cas.  He tried to check for breath but couldn’t tell.  He dropped his hand down to Cas’ neck to feel for a pulse. 

Cas’ skin was still cold.  Dean started feeling the first stirrings of panic.  Could Cas have slipped away while he slept?  Then he felt it, a pulse, slow but steady under the angel’s cold skin.  Cas was still alive.  Dean breathed a sigh of relief.  Sure, Cas had come back from the dead before, but that didn’t stop him from worrying.  What if he didn’t come back next time?

Dean willed himself to relax and go back to sleep, though he didn’t move his hand from the fluttering pulse under his fingertips.

 

* * *

 

The next time he woke, he had shifted in his sleep.  He didn’t open his eyes, but he could feel that his arm was still slung over Castiel’s chest, hand resting on his collarbone.  He could feel Cas’ heart beating through his arm, and his pulse was stronger now, and not as slow.  His head had dropped down and his forehead was pressed into the skin of Cas’ shoulder.  He wasn’t awake enough to feel inhibited by the situation; for just a moment, he allowed himself to feel calm and relaxed.  He inhaled deeply, inhaling the scent that was Cas’ skin.  It was then that he realized that the smooth skin against his forehead was warm, not cold as it had been all night.  He opened his eyes and looked up, though he knew what he would find.  Sure enough, Cas was awake and watching him, propped up slightly by the doubled-up pillow behind his head.

They spent a moment just looking at each other.  Sometimes it seemed like he had entire conversations with Cas without saying a word.  Sometimes he didn’t know what those conversations were about…and sometimes, he did.  Even in the dim light he could see the blue of the angel’s eyes.

Finally Cas broke the silence.  “Hello, Dean.”  His gravelly voice was unusually quiet, but this was a bit of an unusual situation. 

“Hey Cas.  Glad you’re okay, man.  You had me worried for a bit. You were in pretty bad shape.”

“Yes, I can tell.  I don’t know what that witch did but I feel…I don’t know, almost human.”  Cas frowned and looked around the room.  “Where’s Sam?”

“He was in even worse shape than you.  He broke some ribs and stuff, so he’s down at the hospital. I didn’t realize how bad off you were, though, or I would have taken you there too.”

“But you didn’t.  You took care of me.”

“Of course I did, Cas.”

They sat in silence again, just looking at each other.  So much unspoken between them.  Dean still hadn’t moved his arm from Castiel’s chest, and where skin met skin it was starting to feel very warm indeed.  He felt the urge to just stretch forward and…

_Whoa_ , a voice in the back of his head said, _we’re straight here, remember?  We don’t kiss guys._

What about angels?

Nothing about what was going on felt wrong to Dean.  Cas was there, and he felt warm and solid beneath Dean’s arm.  He was a hunter and he prided himself on his instincts, right?  He took a deep breath, squashed the voice in the back of his head, and followed his instincts by leaning forward and pressing his lips to Castiel’s.

Cas tensed, but Dean could feel him take in a shuddering breath.  He didn’t know if he had overstepped and pulled back, looking at Cas for signs of distress.  Cas didn’t look distressed.  He looked like he often looked, brow furrowed, eyes intense.  He slowly wet his lips, and Dean couldn’t help but think that Cas was tasting him.  “Dean, are you sure?”

Dean smiled at him.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I’m sure.”

Castiel raised his eyebrows but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and Dean leaned in to him again.  This time, when their lips connected, it was very different.  He moved his hand from Cas’ collarbone to his face, and Cas wrapped his arms around Dean.  Suddenly everything was hot and wet and soft and hard and smooth and rough, all at once.  The feeling of the scruff on Cas’ face was unusual against his jaw and hand, but not unpleasant.  In fact, it was more than not unpleasant, it was rapidly becoming very pleasant, and he shifted to cover Cas’ body with his own.  The angel made a sound of pleasure at first, but it turned to a grunt of pain.

_Crap, he’s cut up like a piece of meat and I’m trying to…trying to…_

“Man Cas, I’m sorry.”  He pulled back from Cas and made to sit up, turning away in frustration. 

Cas put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “No Dean, don’t go.”

“You’re hurt, man.”

“Yes, but I…I want…”

Dean looked back and down at Cas’ hand on his shoulder, his pale arm and chest, and the pleading look in those blue eyes.  “Cas…anything you want…”  Still, he made no move back towards him.

“Perhaps we could sleep more first?  I will be stronger later.”

Dean smiled.  “I think I can manage that.”  He lay back down again next to Cas, who lifted the blanket and looked at him expectantly.  He shrugged and crawled underneath.  There was a moment of awkwardness as they both just laid there before Dean decided he was all in, fuck the consequences.  “C’mere,” he said, and pulled Cas up against him, tucking the angel’s head under his chin, wrapping his arm protectively around his back.  Castiel curled his arm around Dean’s waist and gave a contented sigh.  Within a few minutes, they were both asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title/chapter titles/those lyrics at the top are from Siouxsie & The Banshees' "The Last Beat of My Heart".


	3. Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is hurt, Sam is hurt, and Dean trusts his instincts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solitude sails  
> In a wave of forgiveness  
> On angels' wings

Dean woke before Castiel.  The angel was still curled up against him, head on his chest.  The small voice in the back of his head started up again, that this was weird, but he did what he did so well – refused to acknowledge what he didn’t want to think about.  Besides, nothing about Cas felt wrong, not truly.  The weight of him against Dean’s body felt right.  Cas’ dark hair brushing up against his chin felt right. Cas’ hand had worked its way under his shirt and was on his bare skin, and that felt right, too.  He buried his nose in Cas’ hair and inhaled.  He smelled of electricity and skin and blood. 

The movement woke Castiel, and he looked up at Dean with those endless blue eyes.  Now Dean didn’t have to have an unspoken conversation with him.  He just leaned his head down and kissed him.  Cas responded eagerly, and it wasn’t long before they were a tangle of limbs. 

Dean let his hands roam over Cas’ skin, careful to avoid the cut on his side.  He realized that he was still fully clothed while Cas was practically bare and disengaged himself from the angel.  This brought an unhappy look until he pulled off his shirt and pulled Cas back down on top of him.  Cas’ hands explored the skin of his chest and back anew, tentatively at first, then with more daring.  Before long, his hand found its way to the faint scar of his own handprint, branded into Dean’s skin and soul.  He sat up from Dean, looking at his hand covering the scar for a moment, and then meeting Dean’s eyes.  After a long moment, they came together again with increased fervor. 

The kissing was great.  No, great didn’t cover it.  The kissing was _fucking awesome_. His arms were full of Cas, the angel’s thigh between his legs, their skin slick with sweat, but he wanted _more_.  Beyond that, he was floored by the uncontrollable urge to do things to Cas.  _Do things_.  He felt a little discouraged that he wasn’t exactly sure what he should be doing with another man…he hadn’t felt inexperienced in the sack since he was a teenager. 

Still, there was one thing he knew how to do – or at least, had had done to him enough that he felt he could do it.  In one swift motion he grasped Castiel and rolled the both of them over.  He applied his mouth to the angel’s neck and collarbone, and was rewarded with a low moan in return.  He ran a hand down Cas’ uninjured side and worked his mouth down Cas’ pale skin.  He explored the muscles in Cas’ chest with his mouth, ran his teeth over his ribs, and outlined his abs with his tongue.  He reached Cas’ waist and tugged down his boxers slowly, taking time to run his teeth and tongue over his left hip bone, an action that made the angel moan in a way that was downright pornographic.

With that encouragement, Dean pulled off Cas’ boxers and tossed them over his shoulder.  He lowered himself down in between his legs.  Cas was watching him intently, eyes burning, chest heaving.  Maintaining the eye contact, Dean grasped the angel’s cock and took it into his mouth.  Castiel flung his head back, one hand clutching a fistful of sheets, the other burying itself in Dean’s hair.  Dean closed his eyes and focused on pleasuring the angel.  He applied every trick he’d seen from any girl that had ever gone down on him.  Anything to make Cas moan and writhe on the bed beneath him.  His jeans were becoming painfully tight, but all Dean could think about was getting the angel off.  He hitched Cas’ leg over his left shoulder and shifted so he could employ his free hand around the base of Cas’ cock. 

Dean could feel the tension building in Cas’ body and knew he was close.  He redoubled his efforts, taking even more of Cas in his mouth, keeping his eyes on Cas’ face.  Dean wanted to see it when he let go, watch every second, every ripple of pleasure as it crossed his face.

He was not disappointed.  Castiel gave another moan and then spasms started to wrack his body.  He came in Dean’s mouth, hard, but Dean was far more interested in the even greater reaction Cas was having.  He had thrown his head back, and bright white light spilled from his eyes.  Dean heard a loud rustle of feathers and saw the shadows of Cas’ massive wings flicker across the motel room as they unfurled in his ecstasy.  It was like nothing Dean had ever seen before, and it was breathtaking. 

After a moment, Castiel’s wings retracted and the light from his eyes faded.  Dean crawled his way back up Cas’ body, making it only halfway before the angel grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him back up to the top of the bed.  Cas sought his mouth again, body still blazing forth with the energy that had been visible just a few seconds before.  His hands fumbled and tugged at the waistband of Dean’s jeans, trying to get the button undone.  He helped Cas out, one hand undoing the button and zipper while the other snaked up his back and into his hair. 

Cas’ mouth was hard on his and Dean almost came the second Cas’ hand wrapped around his cock.  It was more than just the built up tension, there was an _energy_ that flowed from the angel’s fingertips that made Dean feel every nerve from his balls to his brain.  His stroke was like silk; the energy pouring forth from him made Dean’s entire body feel electrified, every sense on fire.  Dimly he was aware of Cas pulling off his jeans, but all he could do was close his eyes and ride the wave of sensation.

When the angel took him in his mouth, it was all over.  He stuttered out Cas’ name as he arched his back and came undone.  His vision swam and he couldn’t catch his breath for what felt like ages.  When he could finally see again, Cas was there, perched above him on his elbows.  He couldn’t help but think that Cas looked utterly pleased with himself.

He reached up and ran a hand through Cas’ extra-tousled hair.  The angel leaned down and kissed him, soft and warm.  “Cas…that was…”

Cas gave him a smug smile.  “Overdue.”

Dean laughed.  “Yeah, it was.”  There was so much more that could be said, but he just held Cas’ gaze for a moment, letting his eyes do the talking.  Castiel gave a silent laugh and laid his head down on Dean’s chest.  Again, they slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title/chapter titles/those lyrics at the top are from Siouxsie & The Banshees' "The Last Beat of My Heart".


	4. Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is hurt, Sam is hurt, and Dean trusts his instincts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solitude sails  
> In a wave of forgiveness  
> On angels' wings

“Dean, wake up.”

Dean blinked a few times as he was drawn out of a blissful sleep by Cas shaking him gently.  “Hmm?  Wha?”

“Sam called.  You didn’t wake up so I answered it.  He’s bored and wants us to come get him.”

“Bored?  What is today?  Tuesday?”  Dean rolled over and sat up, untangling himself a bit from the sheets and Cas’ bare limbs. 

“No Dean, it is Wednesday.”

“Son of a bitch!  How did that happen?”

Cas smirked at him and gestured around at the scattered clothing, the wrinkled motel sheets, and their nakedness. 

“Oh.  Well, that would do it.”  He couldn’t resist inching closer to Cas and dropping his mouth to the corner of his jaw, right below the ear.  He ran his hands over Cas’ chest for a moment before something clicked.  “Hey, you healed.”

Cas looked down at his side.  Where the long cut had been was now only pale skin.  There wasn’t a sign of Dean’s neat stitches or even a scar.  “Yes, all better.”

“When did your angel batteries recharge?”

“I think you had something to do with it.  Last night?”

“Oh?  Oh!  Is that what that was?”  He leaned down and started to examine the previously afflicted area with his mouth.

“Yes Dean.  There is great power when an angel connects with a human soul.”

“Mhmm…good to know…” Dean continued his examinations, nibbling his way down Cas’ ribs.

“Mm…Dean…we have to go get Sam,” Cas said, though he leaned into Dean’s touch.

“Sammy’s a big boy, he can wait…just fifteen minutes, that’s all I need…” He wasn’t serious, but he did enjoy the little sounds of pleasure coming from the angel.

Cas cleared his throat.  “Dean.”

Dean sighed and pulled away.  “I know, I know.  Cold shower it is, then.”  Still, he let himself capture Cas’ mouth with a searing kiss before winking and retreating to the bathroom in search of an icy distraction.

 

* * *

 

When Dean emerged from the bathroom, Castiel was sitting with a book on a neatly made bed.  He was wearing his usual suit-and-trench coat combination.  There was no sign of the bloodstained clothes Dean had peeled off him the night before.  Even the bloody towels were gone.  From a glance, it looked like the last thirty-six hours hadn’t even happened.

Until Cas caught his eye, that was.  His eyes were even more intense than usual. “Look, Cas.  About what’s happened…Sam doesn’t need to hear about it, okay?”

Castiel looked crestfallen but recovered quickly, looking up at Dean blandly.  “I understand, Dean.  I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.  I will not mention it again.”

Dean immediately went and sat on the edge of the bed next to him, throwing an arm around his hunched shoulders.  “Hey!  No, no, not like that.  I’m not uncomfortable, and you’d better damn well mention it again.  I’m not done with your nerdy ass, not by a long shot.”  Cas perked up a bit at that.  Dean pressed a fast kiss to his temple.  “Not done at all.  I just…don’t want to go into it with Sam just yet.  Just…give me a little time.  He’ll want to talk about it and go into feelings and shit like that, and right now I just want to _do_ and not _think_.”

Cas smiled at him.  “Very well, Dean.”

 

* * *

 

Sam was restless as he waited for his brother and Castiel at the hospital.  He’d been glad when Cas had answered Dean’s phone and said they would come get him.  He also wondered why he was in the hospital at all if Cas was around.

Finally they turned up and Castiel laid his two fingers on Sam’s forehead, instantly healing his cracked ribs and slight concussion.  Sam got dressed and they slipped out of the hospital without attracting the attention of the nurses.   

They climbed into the Impala and headed away from the hospital.  The atmosphere in the car felt a little off.  Sam wondered what was up between Dean and Cas…this time.  He turned to look at the angel in the back seat.  “Thanks again for the healing Cas, though I have to ask, how did I end up in the hospital in the first place?  What happened that night?”

Castiel’s eyebrows shot up.  “Uh…that witch…she did something, and I was injured.  I needed time to…recharge.” He looked down and then out the window to his left.  Sam turned forward again.  Something was definitely up.

A stop for beer and burgers later and they were back at the motel room.  Sam sat down at the small table and opened up his laptop and started clicking through his email.  Dean sat across from him, and Cas perched on the nearby bed.  Sam wasn’t really paying attention to them as he skimmed through his emails, but both men were antsy.  Dean got up and paced around a bit, and then sat down again.  Finally, something clicked.  He looked up at Dean, then over to Cas, who was (atypically) avoiding eye contact.  He looked back at Dean, eyebrows raised.  “Really?”

“What?”

“Oh come on man, you know what I mean.”

“How the hell did you know?” 

Sam just laughed.  “Dude, I know you, that’s all. And….” 

Dean looked a little panicked.  Sam was enjoying this far too much.  “And?”

“And it’s about fucking time.”  Dean glared at him, and he just smiled and returned to his inbox.

 

* * *

 

They spent the next few days holed up in the motel, researching the witch.  Dean and Cas made a run for supplies, but neither of them broached the subject of what had happened between them while Sam was in the hospital.  The silence between them was comfortable, though, so Dean kept on doing one of the things he did best – Not Talking About It.  Not of any desire to not acknowledge it, but words and feelings just weren’t his thing. 

Every night, Cas pulled on an old AC/DC shirt of Dean’s, and though he didn’t sleep, crawled into bed and entangled himself with Dean.  Sam watched them with a perpetual smirk but didn’t say a word.  One night Cas buried his face in Dean’s chest with an audible contented sigh.  Dean caught Sam’s smirking face and glared at him, then purposefully wrapped his arms around Cas even more, attempting a “that’s right, bitch!” sort of snuggle.  Not that he snuggled.  At all.

 

* * *

 

Finally they had some luck tracking the witch down, and of course the witch turned into a whole coven of them.  Sam found a pretty promising binding spell and they assembled the ingredients.  They couldn’t find everything locally, so Cas flitted away to collect the more obscure items.  Sam set to work reviewing the words of the ritual.

Dean paced around for a while, and then abruptly sat at the table with Sam.  “Okay, out with it.”

Sam looked up from the laptop and raised his eyebrows.  “Out with what?”

Dean reached over, shut the laptop, and looked Sam in the eye, shoulders set.  “Let’s get the chick flick moment out of the way before Cas gets back.  I know you’re dying to have one.”

“Dean, if you don’t want to talk about it, I’m fine with that.  If you want to though, I’m happy to.”

Dean rolled his eyes.  “Of course you want to talk about it.  You’re Mr. Talky McTalkersons.”

“Sure, Dean.  That’s why I’m the one that brought it up.”  He laughed and shook his head, just a bit, at just how emotionally stunted his brother could be.  “Fine.  Of course I want to talk about it.  Let’s talk.  You and Cas, hm?  What brought this on?”

“Uh.…”

“Yeah?  That so?”

“Shut up.”

“Fine.  I’ll talk, you listen.  You and Cas.  Like I said before, it’s about fucking time.  You two have been circling each other like magnets for years now.  What’s the problem?”

Dean looked at him for a long moment, emotions warring on his face. “So, it’s not weird?”

“Dude, it’s the twenty-first century.  It’s only weird if you make it weird.”

Dean smiled, and then reached over and clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder.  “Oh Samantha, I’m so glad you were born a girl.”

Sam sighed and opened the laptop.  It was worth Dean poking at him; he already looked like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title/chapter titles/those lyrics at the top are from Siouxsie & The Banshees' "The Last Beat of My Heart".


	5. Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is hurt, Sam is hurt, and Dean trusts his instincts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solitude sails  
> In a wave of forgiveness  
> On angels' wings

He was running.  The light was that indeterminate grey that he had become used to.  It was hot and dirty and he was covered in blood.  He was alone. 

If he stopped running, stopped fighting, he would die.  He was in Purgatory again, and he was all alone.

 

* * *

 

Dean woke in a cold sweat, sitting up in the dark motel room.  He wasn’t in Purgatory; he’d just been having another nightmare.  He wasn’t alone, either; Sam was asleep in the bed next to his. 

He hated that nightmare.  For as many things as he’d done in his life to give him bad dreams, that one was top of his list of least favorites.  Hell had been bad, but in Purgatory, he’d just been so _alone_.  Before Benny, before he’d killed and tortured his way to Cas, he’d been alone.  Unable to shake the feeling of the nightmare, he silently whispered, “Cas, you out there?”  The angel had gone off to take care of his own thing a few days before, and Dean keenly felt his absence.

As he’d hoped, the angel had his ears on.  A quiet flutter of wings and Castiel was sitting on the bed next to him.  “Hello, Dean.  Are you okay?”  He spoke quietly, as to not wake Sam with his presence.

“Thanks for coming, Cas.”  Dean didn’t look up; he just sat with hunched shoulders, eyes on balled-up fists in his lap. 

Castiel reached over and took one of his hands, drawing it close to him.  Slowly he unwound and examined each finger.  “The nightmare again?”

“Yeah.”

“They will go away.  I have them, too.”

“How do you have nightmares?  You don’t sleep.”

“We don’t need to sleep, but it happens.  Usually only when injured.”

“Which seems to happen a lot around me, huh?  I cause you nightmares.  Awesome.”  Dean couldn’t hide the bitterness in his voice.  Was there anything he touched he didn’t break?

Castiel ducked his head until he caught Dean’s eyes.  “Yes Dean.  But it is worth it.”  The angel looked at him for a long moment, and then let go of his hand and shrugged out of his jackets, dropping them off the side of the bed.  Shoes, tie, and shirt joined the pile, leaving him just in his slacks and white undershirt.  Dean watched all of this with a hunger, not wanting him to stop, but also acutely aware of Sam asleep less than six feet away.

Cas spared a glance for Sam, but leaned in and kissed Dean anyway.  Silently they came together, hands searching for skin with a minimum of rustling clothing.  Cas dropped his mouth to Dean’s neck and he gritted his teeth to keep sound from escaping his mouth.  As Cas slipped his hand into Dean’s boxer briefs, Dean placed his lips against Cas’ ear and whispered, “You’d better believe I’m going to get you back for this, bastard.”  Cas silenced him with a smile on his lips and a firmer grip on his cock.  Cas slowly started to move his hand, and Dean wanted to pant and moan but held it in, nostrils flaring.

Cas straddled him and used his free hand to firmly press Dean back down onto the bed.  Dean laid back and closed his eyes, feeling the heat of Cas’ breath as he ghosted down Dean’s body.  Strong hands gripped him and slid his shorts down, and when he felt the angel’s tongue run up the bottom of his cock, he nearly bit through his bottom lip.

Even with Dean focused on silence, it didn’t take Cas long to get him off.  Dean suppressed his moans, funneling his feelings through hands buried in Cas’ dark hair.  Once the spasms stopped, Cas rearranged Dean’s clothing and crawled under the blankets with him.  Dean kissed him and drew him close, one hand fumbling at Cas’ belt buckle, wanting to return the favor.  Cas captured his wrists, whispering into Dean’s ear.  “No Dean.  This was just for you.”  Cas manhandled him until he was facing the other way, keeping his arms around him, pressing himself to Dean’s back.  He felt Cas’ warm breath in his ear. “Now sleep.  I will be here.”

Wrapped in the angel’s arms, Dean slept without dreaming.

 

* * *

 

Sam didn’t dare move a muscle until the breathing from the other side of the motel room was deep and even.  After that, he still didn’t want to risk moving, because even if Dean was asleep, Castiel was probably awake, and Sam didn’t want to upset either of them.

He’d woken when Dean had cried out from his nightmare.  It wasn’t the first time he’d had a nightmare since returning from Purgatory, though he usually returned to sleep fairly quickly.  Sam was only going to let Dean know he was awake if he could tell that Dean wasn’t able to get back to sleep. 

He heard Dean whisper Castiel’s name, but he certainly didn’t expect the angel to appear so quickly.  The only thing Sam could think to do was feign sleep, something he regretted when he heard first the rustling of clothing, and then the sounds of two people trying very hard to be quiet.   Sam wasn’t sure exactly what they were doing, but he had a pretty good idea, so he just kept his eyes closed (and was thankful he was already facing in the other direction) and recited Latin to himself in his head as loud as possible. 

It wasn’t long before he heard his brother trying hard not to make sounds that Sam really didn’t want to hear – though to be honest, had heard before.  You weren’t brothers with someone like Dean Winchester, who got as many girls as he did, without overhearing things you really didn’t want to hear.

Sam heard more rustling fabric, and then Cas whispered something to Dean and both were quiet.  Sam knew he could have let it be known he was awake, or even fled the room, at any point, but getting caught in the act would probably have embarrassed and upset Dean.  Sam really was happy that Dean had finally given in to the tension he had been building with the angel for years now.  He could tell that Castiel made him happy, and too few things in this life did that for either of them. 

He wondered what sort of excuse he could come up with to go off on his own for a while, at least for a few days.  Those two needed some time alone with each other.  Either he needed to absent himself or he would have to insist on them renting two rooms for a while.  That would probably make Dean uncomfortable, too.  Sam needed an escape.  He fell asleep trying to puzzle that one out.

When he woke the next morning, Dean was still asleep, still wrapped in Castiel’s arms.  Sam couldn’t help but think it had been a very long time since he’d seen his brother look that peaceful.  Sam smiled, then noticed that Castiel’s eyes were open and watching him.  He put his finger to his mouth to keep the angel from speaking and got up and dressed as quietly as possible.  He jotted a note to Dean on the motel’s stationary, saying he was going to head one town over to check out some lore and would be back in a few days.  He gave Cas a wink and a smile and slipped out the door.  He hoped they would put this time alone to good use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title/chapter titles/those lyrics at the top are from Siouxsie & The Banshees' "The Last Beat of My Heart".


	6. Loud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is hurt, Sam is hurt, and Dean trusts his instincts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Solitude sails  
> In a wave of forgiveness  
> On angels' wings

Dean woke to Cas gazing down on him.  It was far from the first time that he’d woken to those blue eyes on him, it wasn’t even the first time this week, but instead of jumping or making a comment about it being creepy, he smiled and snaked an arm around Cas’ neck, pulling him down for a kiss.  Once that finished waking him up, he looked around, expecting Sammy to be sitting somewhere and laughing at them.  They were alone, though, so he relaxed and turned back to the angel’s eager lips.  Castiel buried his face in Dean’s neck and he just sat back and enjoyed it.  He ran his hands up and down Cas’ back and tried to remember the last time he felt relaxed or like he was enjoying something, and nothing before this last week, before Castiel, came to mind. 

As much as he could have laid there forever with the angel’s lips on his neck, the world slowly intruded.  “Hey, Cas?”

“Mmm?”  The mumbled response came from somewhere around Dean’s collarbone.

“Where’s Sammy?”  Sam’s bed was unmade, and he had noticed the bathroom door was open, so Sam wasn’t in the room with them at all.

Cas lifted his head and looked around the room.  “Sam left early this morning, a few hours ago now.  I think he left you a note on the table.”

Dean was suddenly alarmed.  “He left?”  He wriggled out from underneath Cas and headed to the table.

“Don’t worry, Dean.”

Dean gave Cas a puzzled look but then read Sammy’s note. 

_Heading to Marshallville to do research.  Back in a few days.  Room’s paid up, call me if you need anything. Enjoy_

Dean could feel the smile on his face as he dropped the note back on the table.  Sam was getting out of his hair for a few days – giving him time to be alone with Cas.  They hadn’t talked about it since before they took out that coven, but he knew Sam approved. Now he was making himself scarce when Dean knew what he needed most was time alone with Cas – time to figure out what was going on without having to worry about anyone being injured or sleeping in the next bed. 

“Cas, do you know that I have the best brother ever?”

Cas was still in the bed, tangled in wrinkled sheets, hair tousled from sleep. The hem of his white undershirt had ridden up and showed just a few inches of pale skin, which had an unspeakable effect on Dean.  Cas was just watching him with those insanely blue eyes, peacefully lying there, waiting on Dean’s whim.

“Yes Dean, I’m aware of that fact.”

Dean crawled back onto the bed and slowly worked Cas’ shirt up to expose more of his chest.  “He’s leaving us alone for a few days, because he knows that I really need to spend some time alone with you.”  He lowered his mouth to Cas’ chest, tongue lightly outlining one of his nipples. 

He could feel Cas take in a shuddering breath before he stammered out, “T-that was very nice of him.”

After that they gave up on attempting any type of complete sentences.  Dean finished pulling off Cas’ undershirt and kissed him hungrily; his hands were busy with the angel’s trousers while Cas tugged at Dean’s shirt.  Soon enough they were both bare and it struck Dean that he was _full-on naked with another guy_.  The feel of Cas’ skin under his and the look in his eyes, though, washed away the anxiety and he took to exploring the lean body of the angel with his tongue, his hands, his lips.  Cas had the patience of a saint but moaned like a whore when Dean discovered some new sensitive area on his sweat-slicked body. 

They kissed and ground their hips together, and Dean felt the tension pooling at the base of his spine.  Cas had his hand between them, gripping them together; the friction was driving Dean crazy.  Before much longer, Cas gave a groan above him and Dean felt the angel spill out hot on his stomach.  As before, the room filled with the shadow of Cas’ massive wings.  Dean knew that he was perilously close to becoming addicted to seeing that happen, and that thought alone was enough to push him over the edge, too.  He let himself go, spasming forth over the angel’s clever fingers.

Cas folded his wings away and collapsed down onto the bed next to him, both of their chests heaving.  Dean thought briefly about saying something about a shower, but he found himself lost in Cas’ eyes again, and then his lips were again fastened to the angel’s like a man starving.  It didn’t take long before both of them were ready for a second round.  They rolled and writhed together on the sheets, and finally Dean wanted _more_.

“Cas?”

“Yes Dean?” Cas replied, though he sounded a little distracted, and his roving hands made it hard for Dean to form actual words.

“Cas, do you want to…do…more?”  He knew what he wanted, but he didn’t exactly know how to say it to Cas in a way that the angel would understand – and that wouldn’t make him die of embarrassment.  Not that what they were doing embarrassed him…he was just new to this whole not-a-chick thing and the fact that he was trying to bring up penetration to an angel of the Lord (despite Cas’ varying degrees of angelic status over the years) made it all the more awkward.

Cas gave him a confused look.  “Of course, Dean.  If there is more that you want, then I would do it.  What would you have me do?”

The part of Dean that had been secretly hoping Cas would know what he had in mind cringed, but mostly he was caught up in the angel’s pure willingness and devotion.  Dean was happy he had never done this with another man – if he was going to do it, it would be with this man, this angel, _his angel_ , and no other.

“Look Cas, I’ve never done this before.  I understand what to do, but both of us are inexperienced here, so it could end…badly.  Or at least awkwardly.”

Castiel frowned at him.  “Don’t worry, Dean.  We will be fine.  While you will be the first person I have experienced sex with, I have witnessed a wide range of human sexuality for thousands of years.” His frown changed to a bit of a smirk. “I know what to do.”

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise but didn’t have time to comment because Castiel grabbed him, kissing him fiercely.  Cas took the initiative, rolling Dean onto his back and pinning him to the bed.  Dean gasped when Cas’ hand went down between his thighs, more than just on his cock.  Cas’ fingers edged back as his tongue moved in Dean’s mouth.  He dropped his mouth down to Dean’s neck and bit, not ungently, but harder than he ever had before, and it made Dean quiver. 

His voice husky, Cas said, “This may feel strange at first, but relax and trust me Dean.”

Dean swallowed and nodded his head, knowing he had given himself over to the angel completely.  He was both stunned and incredibly turned on at how Cas had taken charge of the situation. 

Once Dean had nodded his acceptance, the angel resumed nipping at his neck while his hand continued its backward path.  Dean tried to concentrate on Cas’ tongue on his neck, tried to keep himself from tensing up.  Cas must have sensed it and shifted his hips, causing Dean to feel a surge of pleasure from the friction on his cock.  Once that had swept past, Cas’ strong fingers were grazing his entrance.  Cas went slowly, as if giving Dean time to adjust to the sensation of something _down there_.

Not stopping the motion of his fingers, Cas muttered, “We are going to need some…”

Knowing what they needed and not wanting Cas to stop, especially not wanting him to disappear to go get something, Dean stammered, “D-down there, in my duffel.  Side pocket.”

Cas smiled at him and snapped the fingers of his free hand and mojo’d the bottle out.  He sat up for a moment, fixing Dean to the mattress with a mere look, and applied the lube to his hand.  He then sunk back down on top of Dean and attacked his mouth again, and as Dean felt the slide of Cas’ tongue in his mouth he also felt a slick finger slip inside him.

Cas had been right, it did feel strange.  It felt weird, very weird…but not necessarily in a bad way.  Cas had paused, waiting to see if Dean would react poorly, but once he sensed no disapproval he continued.  Dean felt the angel’s finger moving within him, causing all kinds of sensations that he never knew existed.  After a few moments, Cas added a second finger, and it dawned on Dean, what Cas was doing.  Stretching him out.  Because next Cas would be putting his cock in him.  Between the thought of that and whatever Cas was doing with his fingers, Dean almost came again right there, but he frantically held himself back.  He did let himself moan out Cas’ name, and the tone in his voice was certainly not begging.  Not at all.

“Dean, are you ready?”

“Cas, I don’t know man, but I trust you.” He meant every word, though his voice came out far breathier than he had intended. 

The angel adjusted his position between Dean’s legs and slowly slid into him.  He took his time, giving Dean’s body ample time to adjust.  Dean’s breath was ragged.  This, this was him and Cas, him and Cas together.  Once he was fully in Cas didn’t move for a moment, and every muscle in his body was taught.  Dean could feel his breath, harsh on his neck.  “Cas, is it…ok?”

Castiel inhaled deeply a few times and then spoke through clenched teeth.  “Yes, Dean.  It is fantastic.  I’m just acclimating to the fact that _knowing_ how to do something and actually _feeling_ it for the first time are very different things.”

“How does it – how do I feel?”

“Like nothing I’ve ever felt before, in all of my time in Heaven or on Earth.  The only thing that comes close is when I first laid my hand on your soul in Hell.”  This struck Dean speechless, but also made his chest fill with warmth.  He didn’t get a chance to dwell on the feeling, though, as Cas started to shift his hips, slowly, and Dean felt the friction over every single inch of his body.

Castiel raised his head from where it had been buried in Dean’s neck and their eyes locked as he started to increase the pace of his thrusts, their bodies filling in the meaning of all those years of unspoken conversations.

Dean gripped Cas’ back, his legs wrapping around the angel, losing himself to the rhythm of their bodies.  He ran a hand into Cas’ hair and dragged his head down until their mouths met again.  He could feel the tension in the angel’s body increase, and just when he thought things couldn’t feel any more incredible, Cas shifted his hips.  Now his thrusts, steadily increasing, set off explosions in Dean’s body.  With his new position Cas was able to reach his hand between them and wrap his fingers around Dean’s cock.  Whatever he was doing, Dean couldn’t hold on any longer.  He clutched the angel and came with a shout.

Within seconds, Cas gave a shout of his own and Dean could feel him spurting into his body.  Cas inhaled sharply and the sound of rustling feathers was everywhere.  This time, Dean didn’t see the shadow of Castiel’s wings; he saw the wings themselves.  Cas pulled out of him and collapsed onto Dean’s chest but his wings remained extended, and Dean drunk in their splendor.  They were enormous, easily stretching to the walls on either side of the motel room, twenty feet across at least.  They were covered in dark feathers that somehow also glowed pure white, and in their glow Dean could see streaks of deep blue throughout them, the same shade as Cas’ endless eyes.

Cas’ face was buried in Dean’s neck.  He whispered, “Can I touch them?”  He was afraid to touch them without the angel’s permission.  Somehow it seemed far more intimate an act than even what they had just finished doing.

Cas raised his head and looked at Dean, confused, then realized what Dean was looking at.  “You can see them?  Actually see them?”

“Yeah, Cas.  They’re…they’re…fucking amazing.”

“Dean, of course you can touch them.  They are me, and I…have always been yours.”

Dean tore his eyes from Cas’ wings and met his eyes.  “I know.  I think I’ve always known.  From the moment you dragged my sorry ass out of Hell, Cas, we’ve been bound together.”  Cas crushed his lips against Dean’s in response.  As the angel’s teeth grazed his bottom lip, he reached his hand up and touched the feathers on his left wing.  They were the softest things he’d ever felt, and his touch on them made Cas shiver against his chest.  He was almost disappointed when Cas gave them a little shake and they folded against his back and disappeared. 

They rearranged their bodies and Dean lay with his head on Cas’ chest, dazed but happy at all that had happened.  He again thought about a shower, especially a shower with Cas, but decided he wouldn’t budget from this spot even if the room was invaded by demons. 

“Hey Cas, how come I’ve never seen your wings before?  Even earlier, I saw the shadow of them, but that’s it.”

Castiel stroked his back absently.  “I don’t know, Dean.  You shouldn’t be able to see them at all.  They are an aspect of my true form, which is why in the past you’ve only seen their shadow.”

“Part of your true form?  The true form that blinds people?”

“Yes, Dean.  It could be that our being…together is changing you.”

“Changing me?  How?”

“I don’t know.  Human-angel relationships are definitely not approved of, so it’s not exactly something that is well-documented.”

Dean frowned into the angel’s chest.  “Not approved of, huh?  Just another reason to hate the rest of those winged dicks.  Do you think I’d be able to see the rest of your true form?”

“Hmm….” He could feel Cas’ breath in his hair.  “I don’t think you’re ready yet.”

“Maybe we need to do this a lot more first.  Just, you know, so I’m ready.”

Cas’ chest rumbled with gravelly laughter.  “That is a good idea.”

He ran a thumb along Cas’ ribcage.  “I could get used to this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title/chapter titles/those lyrics at the top are from Siouxsie & The Banshees' "The Last Beat of My Heart".

**Author's Note:**

> Title/chapter titles/those lyrics at the top are from Siouxsie & The Banshees' "The Last Beat of My Heart".


End file.
